SuvwI'
by Thethuthinnang
Summary: BtVS.Star Trek: The Next Generation. She sleeps. Do not wake her. (1st in SuvwI'.)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

The thing was a ship, the chief engineer told him, of human make, and perhaps three hundred years old.

"From before the Federation, before humans even discovered warp drive," said D'romok. "Perhaps in the years immediately following their Third World War. It must be one of the earliest space-worthy transports the humans built."

The ship had none of the usual features of Alpha Quadrant ships. Rather it was an exact sphere, without distinguishing characteristics. If not for its mathematically precise shape, as well as its size, the sensors of the IKS _H'grot_ could have missed it altogether, dismissing the anomaly in the scans as wreckage or trash.

"You're certain it's a ship?" asked Haragga.

"Yes, Captain," said D'romok. "But..."

The chief engineer hesitated, and Haragga growled his impatience.

"There are many things wrong with it," said D'romok. "There are no visible means of propulsion, and I do not detect any weaponry. It is completely round, with no obvious openings for entry or exit. No shields, no insignia—it is a ball, floating without trajectory."

"Yet it is a ship," said Kahmer, the first officer, somewhat doubtfully.

"Yes, _la'_." D'romok called a schematic up on the screen. "I have detected a rudimentary life support system still functioning inside, as well as inner compartments. Metal degradation and mechanical failures have taken a toll. I cannot see any system of propulsion, but in any case the stress of movement would break the ship down completely within fifteen minutes."

Haragga turned back to the screen that still displayed the ancient ship. Centuries old, an impractical if not useless design, pre-Federation human in origin... "What could it hold?"

"I detect no life signs, Captain," said Magh, the security chief, his growl more a rasp.

No life signs. Wreckage, then, except—he did not know. Something..._something_ about this was—off.

"_HoD_," said D'romok, "I cannot detect a navigation system, though that could only mean that it has deactivated or been destroyed."

"A ship without navigation or propulsion," said Magh. "It might as well be a box floating in space."

Haragga was watching the ship drift, turning slowly on some either pre-established or random axis, and it was he who saw it first. "_Sogh_! There!"

D'romok contained the view on the screen, brought it closer. On the side of the human vessel, in the center of a square section of corrugated plating, were lines of alien print.

"Federation Standard, Captain," said D'romok, eyes fixed.

"Translate."

By now, every Klingon on the command deck was watching. When the _tlhIngan Hol_ translation overlaid the deteriorated inscription, they all saw it at once.

here sleeps the slayer

our protector

the end of evil

the enemy of the evildoer

the destroyer of evil things

our lives in one hand

their deaths in the other

she sleeps

do not wake her

Haragga stood from the command chair, his eyes on the screen.

"_Slayer,"_ he breathed. Then, to D'romok, "This translation is accurate?"

"Yes, Captain," said D'romok, over the console. "I...do not know the human context of the title as it is used here, but the meaning is unmistakable. _One who destroys, or kills by violence._"

"A tomb," said Magh, his eyes wide. "The tomb of an ancient human hero—and not one of those weakling scientists, but a warrior. A true warrior!"

"But a female," someone protested. "A human female?"

"And?" snarled Magh. "Was not Kahless's Lukara a woman? Do you scorn her memory too, fool?"

"Besides, this is the work of primitive humans," said D'romok. "Who knows how they thought, why they did anything?"

Haragga growled, silencing all arguments. Mind made up, he motioned to Magh. "Assemble the away team. We will board this ship."

"The Federation?" asked _la'_ Kahmar. "Should we not contact them?"

"Later," said Haragga. "This ship was found in Klingon space, and I want to see this ancient human hero."

"But Captain," interrupted D'romok, "we do not yet know for certain if there is even a sustainable atmosphere, if the ship itself can bear the strain of—this is work for a salvage crew—"

"Then you have one hour to prepare, chief engineer," said Haragga, glaring at him. "But we _will_ board this vessel."

"Captain," tried Kahmar, "we do not even know for certain if it _is_ a tomb."

Haragga bared his teeth. "Look, _la'_." He pointed, gesturing with one, gloved hand. "Have you been a stranger to battle and glory for so long that you cannot recognize what is placed before you? Where else would you put the final annunciation of a warrior, but on the door of her tomb?"

* * *

**Glossary**

_la'_ | commander  
_HoD_ | captain  
_Sogh_ | lieutenant


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

When they materialized aboard the human ship, it was to stand in a darkness lit only by the lights of their atmospheric suits and the fading energy of their transport beams.

Magh glanced at the sensor in his hand. "Breathable, Captain."

Haragga needed nothing else. He pressed the control that pulled back his faceguard, and his nostrils filled with the cool, recycled air of a three hundred years.

The away team stood in a semi-circular compartment, with barely room enough to sufficiently accommodate four full-grown males. There was no debris, only clear, empty space and a bare floor. There was nothing in it, not a single panel or console that Haragga could see. Behind them, a closed hatch set into the wall that looked to be the airlock. Opposite them, in the wall the away team faced, was a high, wide door, closed and without any obvious means of opening it.

"No energy signatures," said D'romok. "The ship is nearly dead, Captain. The only system still operating is life support, and even this will fail within a few days."

Haragga strode to the closed door, but nothing happened at his approach. He thought to try a voice command, but as he opened his mouth, it occurred to him that a _ter'ngan_ ship three hundred years old was not likely to be programmed with a universal translator. "D'romok?"

The chief engineer came forward with his tricorder. "The circuitry has long since ceased to work. I could not repair it in these conditions."

Magh bared his teeth. "Then we do it the traditional way."

The door opened only grudgingly, even with Magh and Kahmar pulling and Haragga and D'romok pushing. When it finally groaned ajar, with a hiss of chill, shallow air, the area beyond turned into a corridor, wide and spacious, but completely destitute of anything but the sweep of enforced steel. The temperature here progressively lowered as they went, and at the end of the corridor Haragga could see another doorway, this one open, and filled with a watery light.

"No weapons," Kahmar was muttering, "no insignias, nothing."

"Very civilized," added Magh, shining his light over the walls.

Haragga had been thinking the same. He had always heard that humans tended to go in for a lot of weeping and wailing, and had been expecting something vulgar.

"Perhaps they had nothing else to give," said D'romok abruptly. "It could not have been many years after the Third World War. I have been told that it was a time of many troubles for them. The construction of this ship could have been no mean undertaking."

"But why build this ship at all?" asked Kahmar. "Especially just after the war? I have never heard of humans disposing of their dead in this way except on starships."

Magh grunted into his beard. "Who knows why humans do anything?"

They had reached the doorway, and it was Haragga who stepped first into the light.

This room was thrice the size the first room had been, and bitingly cold. It was semicircular in shape, and to either side of the door there was nothing, only bare walls and empty floor, but in the opposite wall—

"_ghuy'cha',"_ exhaled Magh.

Haragga's eyes were wide. He heard D'romok's harsh breath, Kahmar's curse, but did not give them any heed. Slowly, almost reverently, he went forward, arm outstretched, and laid his fingers against the surface of the glass.

The cylinder stood from floor to ceiling, and was nearly as wide as the wall it stretched against. The light emanated from the center, silent and cold. The front of the thing was entirely glass, giving them a view directly into its contents, and the sight was one that he did not doubt he would remember for the rest of his life.

The ice was sheer and white, flawless in its clean composition, its pellucid mass. The whole of the cylinder was filled with that ice, from top to bottom, and the cold that emitted from it was enough to sear and numb his hand, even through reinforced glass as thick as his thumb.

In the center, her hair a streak of golden fire against the white, was a girl.

* * *

**Glossary**

_ter'ngan_ | Terran  
_ghuy'cha_ | general invective


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

"That cannot be her," said Magh. "She is too small."

Haragga lowered his hand. Disappointment left a sour taste in his mouth. A human child!

"Was it a mistake?" Kahmar was saying, tone filled with disbelief. "Did they inter the wrong body?"

"I do not see how that could be," said D'romok, distracted by his scans. "Even pre-Contact humans could not have been so careless."

"You are saying it was intentional," said Haragga, gripping his _Daqtagh_ with a hand that he would rather have had around the neck of whichever human had perpetrated this...thing. "That they _meant_ to put this..._child_ here."

For a long moment, no one could speak. Haragga stood still, attempting to get his urge to stab someone under control, looking at the cylinder and the body it contained.

She was...extremely small. Upright on the floor before them, she would not have come to even D'romok's shoulder—and he was the shortest of the four of them. But then, humans were nearly always smaller than one expected them to be, and it was only sense that human children would look even punier.

"Perhaps she comes of a line of warriors," suggested Kahmar, somewhat grudgingly, "and this tomb does honor to her heritage rather than to her."

The thought was abhorrent to Haragga. A noble ancestry was one thing, but to use it as an excuse to honor someone without their having done anything to earn it, and that an untried child! Could even humans commit such distasteful offenses?

He shook his head, thrusting that sort of thinking away. "D'romok. Finish your scans and check again to make sure there is nothing else on this ship. Then we will go back to the _H'grot_ and submit our reports. The Federation can deal with this."

D'romok did not answer. Irritated, Haragga turned to glare at the chief engineer, only to find the lieutenant staring at the steel encasement of the cylinder.

"Chief engineer!" Kahmar struck D'romok's shoulder.

D'romok hardly seemed to notice. He only looked at them, mouth slightly open, and a peculiar expression on his face.

"Captain," said D'romok, and his voice was gruff. "Captain, I do not think this is a tomb."

Haragga frowned. "What?"

"I think," said D'romok, and his eyes turned again to the cylinder, "that this is a cryonic preservation unit, and the girl is in cryosleep."

Magh's mouth opened. Kahmar stared at the cylinder.

Haragga looked at D'romok, and then at the girl. "That does not look like cryosleep."

Cryonics had not been utilized in the Empire for over a hundred years. Haragga had never seen cryosleep before, but he did not think it involved an actual block of ice.

"No," said D'romok, "this would be—is—only a very primitive form of cryonics. I can hardly believe that it has remained functional for three hundred years. And there is no guarantee that the subject has survived such a rough method—or, if she has, that she has not suffered irreversible physical damage."

"Hold," said Kahmar. "You're saying that the—child—could still be alive."

Haragga had already thought through to the inevitable conclusion, was considering the probabilities. The Federation would have to get involved. This was a human artifact, with possibly a human still in it. How long would it take a Federation ship to arrive? Could this ancient vessel wait that long? And, too, it had been found in Klingon space. Should he alert his superiors in the Defense Force, or simply give his report and let someone else make the decision?

What a headache. He almost would rather have never found the thing at all.

"Possibly," D'romok was saying, working now on his tricorder. "I will know nothing for certain unless we attempt to revive her. But, Captain, even if we are successful, there is every chance that her brain has deteriorated too—"

_"_H'grot _to _HoD _Haragga. Captain!"_

It was the communicator. The voice was that of _Sogh_ Krang, who had been left in command of H'grot.

Haragga snarled into his com, "What?"

"_Romulan Warbird decloaking to port. Captain, they are transporting!"_

Magh cried out in shock and rage. "A Warbird? Here? In Klingon space?"

Haragga charged for the door, trying to open his ears to the noise of footsteps. "_H'grot_, four to transport! Now!"

"_Captain, we cannot get a lock!"_ Krang was snarling, and an explosion transmitted over the com. "_We—engaging shields—attack maneuvers—"_

The other three had followed him, disruptors out and taking positions against the wall and on the other side of the door. Haragga could have gnashed his teeth with anger. This was the Mempa sector, light years away from the Romulan Neutral Zone. To come so far into the Empire, not twenty years after the war—

Haragga did not know the perverted language of Romulan scum and probably never would. There was, however, one phrase he had come to recognize over the years through sheer repetition.

"_Hyaa-aifv-hnah!"_

Disruptor fire filled the corridor and flashed through the doorway. Haragga howled his contempt and fired back, supported from the other side by Kahmar. He could hear the Romulan officer talking on his own com in the first room, and tried to judge by voice and Romulan disruptor discharge how many of the _Ha'DIbaH_ there were.

"Captain," shouted D'romok, "the ship! It cannot withstand the stress of—"

Abruptly, from everywhere and all around, there came to their ears a low, head-splitting thrum. The floor shuddered beneath their boots.

Haragga glanced back, and grinned to see the chief engineer tearing at his hair.

"_Dor'sho'gha!"_ roared D'romok, infuriated. "The _qoH_ are—"

He stopped. Stilled.

Haragga's eyes widened. Beside him, Magh lowered his disruptor. The Romulans had ceased firing, and an uncanny silence fell over both sides. Kahmar took two more shots before he, too, turned.

The cylinder was a glare of light. The thrum grown into a discordant drone, and the cold had seeped from the floor.

The ice was gone. There was now only a dense, gray liquid, drifting sluggishly against the fortified steel.

And a hand, small and human, pressed tentatively against the glass.

* * *

**Glossary**

_Daqtagh_ | warrior's knife  
_hyaa-aifv-hnah_ | [Romulan] fire disruptor  
_Ha'DIbaH_ | animal, slang for inferior person  
_dor'sho'gha_ | expletive  
_qoH_ | idiot


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

"_D'romok,"_ shouted Haragga. "Get to the—"

From the first compartment, he heard the Romulan officer shout, "_Hyaa-aifv-hnah!"_

The understructure of the cylinder exploded in a shower of glass and disruptor fire, and liquid rushed out onto the floor. Cold air escaped with a hissing steam. The hand pressing against the glass disappeared, there were several, jarring blows of flesh against steel and glass, and a body tumbled out through the jagged opening that had been blasted into the machine.

The odor of blood filled the room.

"Captain," shouted D'romok, from the right corner, where he had been kneeling beside the cylinder's power couplings, "the ship's systems are failing. We must get out!"

"Magh," snarled Haragga, "_Magh!"_ He could not turn to look, but he heard Magh curse as he left the captain's side, dodging disruptor fire, to go to the girl, heard him growl, "_Come,_ be'Hom—"

—and Magh struck the wall beside Haragga headfirst.

Magh struck the floor on his face, unconscious, disruptor clattering out of his hands. Haragga whirled, his own disruptor up and aiming, slamming his back into the wall, his blood hot and throbbing in his veins.

The girl stood before him, and in her hand was a _Daqtagh._

Her hair clung to her face and neck. She was naked, and bloody lines striated her body where broken glass and notched steel had torn her flesh.

The girl was skin and bone, unnaturally pale. The blood of her wounds caught at his eyes, violent and striking where it smeared her skin, and her hair was raw, burnished gold.

Green eyes, empty and unseeing, stared blankly at nothing.

Haragga abruptly became aware of the silence. The Romulans had ceased their firing, and he could hear the officer's voice.

"_Sogh!"_ Kahmar threw himself past the open doorway and took position over Magh. "His arm has been broken!"

The girl stood, unmoving.

D'romok had come around the room and to them. He was covered in the blue liquid, his skin and hair white with cold where it touched him, but he showed no signs of discomfort. His eyes were fixed on the girl, and the _Daqtagh_ in her hand.

"Captain," he said, "I think she is in shock."

Haragga opened his mouth to ask _What did she do?_ and two Romulans came through the doorway.

Disruptors came up, Klingon and Romulan both. Haragga snarled, "Surrender or die, _romuluSngan_!" even as one of the Romulans shouted through the translator, "Surrender immediately, _Klling'hanha_!"

Then they caught sight of the human girl, and their mouths hung open.

More Romulans were filling the room—two and three, five, seven. Haragga exchanged looks with Kahmar between shouts, who gave him a slight nod to show that he understood. The muscles of Haragga's legs tensed as he prepared himself.

Finally, the Romulan officer appeared in the doorway. He glanced through the room, expressionless—and then he saw the girl, who had been standing, motionless, through everything.

"What?" he exclaimed, and then he looked at Haragga, and his eyes widened. "No, do not—"

Haragga attacked.

The Romulan closest to him was barely an arm's length away. He grasped at the midsection of the Romulan's disruptor rifle, pulled, struck at the commando's face with his own disruptor—

—the Romulan commandos raised their own weapons, taking aim—

—Kahmar charged forward, disruptor in one hand, a _meqleH_ in the other—

—the Romulan officer shouted, in tone that was strange in its panic, "_No—"_

Haragga was uncertain how it happened. He thought perhaps that the commando Kahmar had charged was pushed backward, into one of his fellows, or that the Romulan he was struggling with over the disruptor rifle knocked into someone's arm when Haragga hit his face with such force that he was flung back, or that D'romok's disruptor shot took someone in the shoulder or hand—

—"_Stop,"_ cried the Romulan officer—

—but one of the Romulans managed to discharge his disruptor, and the shot went wide.

The energy blast took the girl high in the left arm, burning away at her flesh. Her shoulder jerked, her body half-turning.

Some instinct made Haragga disengage, pull back. He opened his mouth to shout for Kahmar to do the same, but the first officer was already at his side.

The Romulans did not press the attack. They were all staring, even the one whose nose was broken and bleeding, at the girl.

The officer's face was white.

The girl's head came up.

She lifted the _Daqtagh_—

* * *

**Glossary**

_be'Hom_ | girl  
_romuluSngan_ | Romulans  
_Klling'hanha_ | [Romulan] Klingons  
_meqleH_ | a blade weapon


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

Haragga materialized in the transporter room of the _H'Grot_ just as the ship tremored from a direct hit.

_"HoD!" _Goroth, _H'Grot_'s chief physician, was already waiting. "Has there—_QI'yaH_!"

The transporter operator, a female named Marag, looked up, and her mouth fell open.

Haragga himself stepped forward, and something wet and spongy squelched under his boots.

Kahmar and D'romok dragged Magh off of the transport pads and toward Goroth. They moved awkwardly, pulling Magh sideways rather than turn their backs on the pads, and green ichor stained the floor where the security chief's boots scraped the deck. Their eyes were wide.

When Haragga turned to look at the human, she had never moved.

She stood on the rightmost transporter pad, looking at no one. Nothing about her had changed from how she had been standing in the compartment of her own vessel. She had reacted to nothing, not the transport, not the _H'Grot_'s materializing around her, not the appearance of Goroth or Marag. The _Daqtagh_ was still in her hand, but she held it slack, no threat in that downward, drooling blade.

The girl's left arm was slack at her side. The disruptor blast had struck high, nearer the shoulder, and the burn was a ragged tear in her flesh that seeped blood, black in the low light of the transporter room.

That arm had been still at her side the entire time.

Her hair was dripping.

Haragga snarled at Marag. "Bring something to cover her!"

Marag started, looking away from the human, and rushed out of the room, leaving only Goroth. "Captain, this human—"

"See to Magh!"

D'romok was lowering Magh to the floor in front of Goroth, but Kahmar came toward Haragga. "Captain, the ship—"

The _H'Grot_ quaked under their feet again, and Krang's voice came over the com. _"Captain! Shields are at thirty-five percent!"_

"Cloak and assume a defensive position!"

Marag came running back into the transporter room, a long _yIvbeH_ in one hand. _"HoD,_ I have this—"

Haragga took the shirt, and then he turned to the girl.

Her head turned when he stepped toward her, and while her eyes did not seem to focus, he was keenly aware that she was alert to him, to his proximity to her.

_"be'Hom,"_ Haragga growled, "I will put this on you."

"Captain," said Kahmar, "I do not think—"

_"bIjatlh 'e' yImev!"_

The human did not move as he came nearer, a stillness to her that made Haragga want to bare his teeth. The _Daqtagh_ stayed in place, and her eyes remained empty, yet a feeling of watchful menace made the skin of Haragga's neck grow hot with rushing blood. The smell of copper filled his nostrils.

"_be'Hom_," he said again.

The girl turned. The relative darkness of the _H'Grot_ and the red beams of his suit made her eyes into stars.

The gory glare, the fetor of blood and torn flesh—that blade, slick and gleaming. And that fearless look on her face, as she'd charged a line of disruptors.

Without hesitating, Haragga stepped into arm's length of her and raised the shirt, dropping it over her head.

The sleeveless shirt, heavy enough to wear as padding under armor, slid down over her shoulders. It was too big, stained with oil, and she did not lift her arms to fit through the armholes, but it did cover her from neck to ankle. The _Daqtagh_ was an angular shape under the cloth.

The shirt began to stain green. Over the disruptor burn, the cloth began to go black.

The girl turned her head and she was looking at him.

"Kahmar," said Haragga, "assist Goroth in removing her to the infirmary and then report to the bridge. D'romok, take Magh with them."

"Captain," began Kahmar.

Haragga turned and walked out of the transporter room.

He passed several other Klingons on his way to the bridge, and they all stopped to stare before a growl sent them on their way. Haragga did not look to see if they stared after him, at his hair stiff with clots and the spray of battle. He could almost hear them making their assumptions.

When he came onto the bridge, Krang turned. "Captain, the Warbird—"

The words were cut off, a hush coming over the bridge as each crew member saw Haragga. He gave it no attention.

On screen, the human ship was exploding.

A white flash, and then large sections of ancient metal were collapsing in. Haragga could not see the Warbird onscreen or the point of impact, but he had seen the effects of plasma torpedoes many times before.

"The Warbird ceased fire and cloaked after we did," said Krang, finally. He had resumed his post as weapons officer. "We detected them attempting to raise their boarding party. Then they decloaked and began firing torpedoes, but at the human ship."

The plasma torpedoes were thorough. The human vessel vanished in a flare of light, the remaining dust scattering on the shock wave. All indicators vanished from the _H'Grot_'s sensors, leaving only the remnants of a plasma implosion.

"The Warbird has cloaked. No sign of approach."

Haragga found himself staring into open space, with nothing but scattering particles to show that an ancient human artifact had been there. "Were you able to identify the ship?"

"No, _HoD._"

Romulans, in an unmarked ship, carrying officers and commandos who wore no insignias, invading Klingon space in order to board and then destroy an ancient human vessel. "Alert the Defense Force. Report that we have been attacked by a Romulan Warbird and there is at least one Romulan ship in Klingon space."

Krang seemed to think. "And the human ship?"

"Say nothing for now. I will contact _Sa_' Martok myself."

Krang began to turn away, to go about his orders, but then he stopped again. "Captain...we observed the Warbird transporting onto the human ship, but the sensors did not detect any other signatures."

The entire bridge was listening. Haragga kept his eyes on the screen. "They did not die well."

The weapons officer looked down at the deck, where Haragga had left bootprints of green blood and scraps of flesh as he came in, and then he turned away. The others followed his lead.

Haragga's eyes were on the screen, but he did not see it.

He was seeing the death of the Romulan officer.

The fear in that man's eyes, as he watched the human coming toward them, and then the desperation, the determination of a man who knew he was dead. He had lifted his disruptor, taking aim—

—not at _her_, but at _Haragga_.

They had been too close. Haragga had had no room or even time to try and evade the blast. That disruptor had been aimed at his head, a nearly point-blank shot, and he had seen his death there, an ignominious death in a minor skirmish that had no purpose or glory. The end of his House.

Then the girl_,_ the _Daqtagh_ in her hand glinting as it came.

_"Sogh,"_ said Haragga, son of Hij'Qa, "set a course for Qo'noS."

* * *

**Glossary**

_QI'yaH_ | general invective  
_yIvbeH_ | sleeveless shirt  
_bIjatlh 'e' yImev_ | shut up [singular]  
_Sa'_ | general


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

"_A _ter'ngan_ ship?"_ _Sa'_ Martok's face was disbelieving, to say the least. _"Carrying a child preserved in stasis? Destroyed by an unmarked _romuluSngan_ vessel in _tlhIngan_ space?"_

Haragga held Martok's eyes and said nothing.

Any other Klingon might have accused Haragga of drinking, or of lying. Martok did neither. _"You are certain they were Romulans?"_

"They bled like Romulans."

Martok's brows lowered. _"You've alerted the fleet?"_

"Yes, _Sa'._ However, we have kept back the details of the alien vessel, and the human. I thought it would be better to inform you first."

_"Hn."_ The general shook his head. _"What would the Romulans want with a human child?"_

Haragga also shook his head. "I could not say, _Sa'_."

_ "The Federation's ambassador is in Qo'noS. I see that you've already set a course. What does your physician have to say?"_

"The human is weak, disoriented, and starving. Preliminary scans show significant brain damage, but Goroth claims that it is responding to treatment and that a procedure on Qo'noS should reverse it entirely. He has administered sedatives. She also sustained minor disruptor burns, but these have been treated."

General Martok was looking at something off screen. _"I will organize the investigation in the Mempa sector. Refrain from contacting the ambassador until you have reached Qo'noS. With any luck, we will have the results in hand before we turn the human over to the Federation. If she is important enough for the Romulans to commit an act of war, then we must know why."_

The dismissal was clear. At any moment, the transmission would end. _"Sa'._ I must inform you of something else."

Martok looked back at him, brows lowering. _"What now, son of Hij'Qa?"_

Haragga stiffened his spine. "I am declaring myself _vavneS_ of the girl."

If Haragga had told the general that he was defecting to the Ferengi, he might have elicited a similar expression. _"WHAT?"_

"There is a debt." Haragga did not look away. "Were it not for her bold actions aboard that ship, it would be _la'_ Kahmar here now, reporting my death to you, if not _Sogh_ Krang."

_"Bold—"_ Martok clenched and unclenched the fist that was in view. _"This...is ill-advised, _HoD."

"It is right, _Sa'_." The general's tone did not bode well, but Haragga was no wet-thumbed brat. "The child is injured and alone, separated from her house and her blood, and I owe her my life. I am declaring myself _vavneS_ until her own claims her."

_Sa_' Martok opened his mouth, and then closed it. He glared at Haragga for a long, precarious moment, scowling savagely.

Abruptly, the general thumped the surface in front of him with his fist. _"You will take full responsibility for the human!"_

_"HIja'!"_

_"Her care will be at the expense of your house, not the state!"_

_ "HIja'!"_

_ "Bah!" _Martok glowered at him, his terrible eyes inscrutable. _"Haragga, son of Hij'Qa, you are either stupider than I thought you...or much, much shrewder. I am waiting to see which!"_

The transmission ended.

Haragga stood up, allowing the tension to ease from his shoulders.

The corridor outside the infirmary was, again, full of _bekk_s, who all seemed to suddenly have found things to do around the physician's quarter. Haragga did not really mind it—they moved out of the way attentively enough, and Kahmar had reported that shipboard bloodshed had diminished to unprecedented levels.

When Haragga entered the infirmary, the girl was sitting with her back against the bulkhead, head back and eyes closed.

Two females, Marag and a _bekk_ named Xol, had been charged with minding the human. One of them had obviously managed to clean her up, as she now stank of some astringent cleansing agent rather than _romuluSngan_ fluids. Her hair had been pulled roughly back and the bloodstained _yIvbeH_ had been taken from her, replaced with a _wep_ that went to her knees and covered her hands. Presumably no one had been able to find shoes to fit such small feet.

None of it had done much to improve her.

_"HoD."_ Goroth inclined his head from where he stood at the biocomputer.

Haragga went over to him. "Has she allowed you to examine her?"

"No, Captain." Goroth looked disgruntled. "I have been limited to scanning her from a distance. She allowed the females to touch her, after a while, but she has let no male near her but you."

"Her condition?"

The physician paused. "It is...improving."

Haragga turned to look at him.

"I have been comparing tricorder scans in hourly increments." Goroth gestured to the screen in front of him. "The first scan is from immediately after she came aboard."

"And?"

"And...Captain, I have no explanation for this." Goroth looked like he was struggling. "I have checked the equipment and the readings several times. I had thought perhaps it was a mechanical failure."

"It is not?"

Goroth frowned. "When I first scanned her, she had significant damage to her brain, consistent with ischemic injury. I observed advanced cell degeneration throughout her body. But, now..."

Haragga was losing patience, but the physician's expression was so frustrated and perplexed that he made an effort at not losing his temper. "Speak!"

"The damage is...diminishing. Each scan shows less and less. Over time, her brain is...repairing itself." Goroth grit his teeth. "I have observed the same effect...everywhere."

"You have not been treating her?"

"We are not equipped to deal with such injuries in humans, _HoD."_

Haragga turned and looked at her.

The human's eyes were closed. She looked as if she were sleeping, her knees folded beneath her and her head against the wall. Her neck was not even the width of his wrist, and she looked like an infant, a nurseling that had fallen asleep sitting up.

When Haragga closed his eyes, he saw her again, standing over the dead Romulans, gory and trembling, the edges of the warrior's knife slavering blood and hair.

"Delete these scans," said Haragga, opening his eyes, "and find her something to eat."

* * *

**Glossary**

_tlhIngan_ | Klingon  
_vavneS_ | [non-canon] honor father  
_HIja'_ | yes  
_bekk_ | warrior; lowest rank on a ship  
_wep_ | sleeved shirt


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

Magh looked much worse than Haragga had expected. Goroth's report stated that Magh had sustained multiple fractures in his cranial exoskeleton. The top half of his face and most of his head was black and swollen, Magh's left eye puckered shut by bloated flesh.

"The fractures are grouped closely, here." Kahmar pointed. "If it had been even slightly more to the center, the blow would have destroyed his tricipital lobe and killed him."

Magh's right eye opened and glared bloodshot at Kahmar. The physician had used a brace to immobilize Magh's head, and Magh could not move his jaw to speak.

The location Kahmar indicated was a rounded blemish just to the left of Magh's central ridges. More than anything, it looked like a dent.

"Magh struck the wall on his back," said Haragga. "I saw that with my own eyes."

"As did I," said Kahmar. "But I did not see what caused it. _Sogh_ D'romok also saw nothing."

Magh lifted a shaking fist into the air and clenched it.

Haragga and Kahmar watched him. Magh's face grew dark with effort, fighting the sedatives Goroth had given him.

Sluggishly, in disjointed, jerking movements, he brought up his other hand and, with a guttural snarl, slammed his fist into his open palm.

Then he sank back onto the rack, eye rolling under the weight of medication.

Kahmar looked at Haragga.

Haragga exhaled through his teeth. "Have you carried out my orders, _la'_?"

"Yes, _HoD_. All data regarding the human ship has been purged from the _H'Grot_'s systems and restricted to a classified file. I have debriefed the crew, and confined Goroth to the infirmary."

"And D'romok?"

"He has been confined to quarters."

Then there was nothing left to wait for. "_la'_, your service in this has been exemplary. _Sa_' Martok will know of it."

Haragga turned to leave and Kahmar said, _"HoD!"_

The captain stopped and looked back.

Kahmar's face was stubborn. "_HoD_, it should be me."

That took Haragga aback. "You?"

"You are the last of your House. If you should die, or receive discommendation—"

Haragga shook his head. "I am captain. The _H'Grot_ is my ship. And I have already claimed responsibility. What is one House, even of the blood, against the Empire?"

"But—"

"Enough! I will hear no more!" Haragga shoved Kahmar for emphasis. "You _will_ do your duty, _la_' Kahmar!"

Without waiting for Kahmar's response, Haragga turned on his heel and left the security chief's quarters.

The corridors to the infirmary were unoccupied—all personnel had been called to battle stations, though the lack of a general alarm had resulted in some disgruntled grumbling. There would be no more casualties than there had to be, if the worst should occur.

Goroth was sitting at his station, waiting for Haragga to arrive. His expression was atypically foreboding. _"HoD."_

From his belt, Haragga removed a single plasma grenade, and handed it to Goroth, who attached it to his own belt.

"You know your duty."

"I do, _HoD_." Goroth looked resolute enough, for a doctor.

They both turned to the human.

She was still sitting how Haragga had left her, back to the bulkhead and her legs folded beneath. A bowl of _baqghol_ had been placed in front of her, but looked untasted. The smell of the cleaning agent was not as bad as before.

When Haragga drew his _meqleH_, the girl opened her eyes.

Before, those eyes had been infantile and mindless, almost imbecilic. What flashes of lucidity that she had seemed to be limited to self-preservation, and even those were only in immediate and violent reactions to physical threats. There had seemed to be a distinct possibility of there being nothing left but instinctive self-defense and muscle memory.

Now, many tricorder readings later, those eyes were not so much imbecilic as they were childlike, aware but depthless.

What would those eyes look like, Haragga couldn't help but think, by the time they reached Qo'noS?

Calmly, he placed the _mek'leth_ on the biobed beside him, the blade toward the wall. Beside it he put his disruptor, turned toward him and within easy grasp. Behind him, Goroth waited, a detronal scanner in one hand and a tricorder in the other.

_"be'Hom,"_ said Haragga, "we must know if you are an Augment."

* * *

**Glossary**

_baqghol_ | warm tea


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

The tube of blood looked innocuous enough. It was red, the same angry chroma of _tlhIngan_ blood, and it _smelled_ like Klingon blood, ferric and hard.

"There is no sign of genetic engineering," said Goroth. "I have run every test available on the _H'Grot_, and I cannot find any indicators of DNA resequencing or any artificial manipulation. Hers is an untouched genome."

"Then she is human," said Kahmar, "not an Augment."

"Technically, Augments are still human," Goroth corrected, "just genetically enhanced." If Goroth saw the glare Kahmar was giving him, he did not seem very worried about it. "However, it must be said that the _H'Grot_'s medical facilities are not...extensive." He frowned at the tube of blood on the console. "There are several more sophisticated tests that I am unable to apply."

"Does this mean you still suspect her of being an Augment?" asked Kahmar.

"I do not," said Goroth, without a trace of hesitation. "But I have observed that you do, _la'_."

Kahmar looked at Haragga.

Haragga looked at the tube of blood. He was a warrior, of a line of warriors—he would always be the first to admit that he knew little of science and nothing of medicine. His expertise lay in battle and in his ship. His concept of medicine was either something killed you or it didn't, and decent people would leave a man alone to either live or die as he would. His House had never been known for progressivism.

And all his years in battle, all his brutally earned prowess as a warrior, told him that what he'd seen on that human ship was impossible.

"You are dismissed, _Sogh_," growled Haragga.

Goroth left without complaint. Years of service in the fleet had left him with a very unambiguous understanding of his position as ship's physician. Too, after so many years, he was more attuned to Haragga's thought process than some others.

She'd been unexpectedly tame when he'd taken her arm. He'd stayed in her line of sight, poised and ready for any reaction as the doctor took his scans and his sample. He hadn't been entirely certain what he'd been expecting. If she was an Augment, then surely she would understand the danger she was in, and would have reacted defensively. Or it could be that the impairment to her neurocognitive functions had degraded her ability to tell an open threat from a more subtle one. If this was the case, then she was growing more and more dangerous with every minute that passed.

Or perhaps she was not an Augment, the healing of her injuries was continuing apace, and she had recovered enough of herself to be able to understand that they had meant her no harm. She'd submitted to the tests mildly enough, her expression one of unconcerned alertness. A whelp that did not know enough to fear.

Goroth and his tests did not think she was an Augment. Goroth and his tests had not been on the away team.

If she was an Augment, she could not be allowed into Federation custody. She could not even be allowed off of the ship. Haragga looked at Kahmar. "Have you carried out my orders?"

"Yes, _HoD_." Kahmar shifted in his seat. "Transport has been instructed to deny her requests, and any outside attempts to transport the human will be met with interference."

"And?"

"I have input the instructions regarding shipboard life signs. Should the ship register no _tlhIngan_ signatures aboard, the _H'Grot_ will auto-destruct. I have also reduced the delay between the final authorization and the self-destruct sequence."

"Even if she kills us all, the _H'Grot_ will avenge us." It was fitting. As a captain served, so would his ship.

Kahmar said nothing. But he was a young Klingon, and poor, and had nowhere to go but up. Dying at the hands of some expired Augment or in a not-particularly-glorious explosion in the Mempa sector probably did not sit well with him, even if it was in the service of the Empire.

"Dismissed." Haragga stood. They were thirty-six hours out from Qo'noS, and Haragga had had no sleep for two days. Perhaps when he woke, the human would have relearned speech. Or killed a few of the noisier _bekk_s.

Kahmar stood as well, but did not move to go. _"HoD."_

The captain stopped. "What?"

"If she is not an Augment..." Kahmar frowned.

Haragga did not need to hear the unspoken question, because he had been asking it himself since the moment he had first suspected it. The deaths of the Romulans repeated again and again in his mind, an anamnesis of violence and grace, more execution than battle. _Augment_ was the name his brain had tried to put to it, the first and only concept that it could use to explain what he had seen. But if she was no Augment...

By the distant concentration in Kahmar's eyes, Haragga knew what he was remembering. That inscription, the metal scarred and pitted by time and space.

The slayer. Pre-Federation human artifacts. Romulans. And the killing, back again and again to the killing.

He'd never been much at cryptograms.

"Then I am _vavneS_," said Haragga.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

The disruptor burn was almost imperceptible, a tract of shiny pink skin that glistened with antiseptic gel. The engineer, Marag, had washed the human's hair and replaced the oversized _wep_ with a different shirt and _yowaH_ that nearly fit. She had also found the human a pair of _DaS_ that had been stuffed with rags, and convinced her to sit on the biobed.

But the difference was in her eyes. She was watching them as they talked, alert and inquisitive. When someone spoke, she would look at them, at the mouth, and sometimes there would be movement along her jaw, muscles ticking under the skin as if she would reproduce the sounds she heard but had not quite grasped how. There was none of the mute incomprehension of earlier.

When she saw Haragga, her eyes would widen and her lips would part, showing teeth.

"She has begun to eat, Captain," said Marag. "She cannot chew meat yet, but _Sogh_ Goroth says that her teeth will be strong enough in a few more hours. I have been giving her hot _baqghol _for now."

Barely twenty-four hours since the incident, and the human looked tenfold healthier. "Has she slept?"

"She closes her eyes," replied Marag, "and the _Sogh_ says she sleeps. But she wakes if anyone comes too close."

Haragga looked at Marag. She was a young _tlhIngan,_ on her first cruise. He recalled that she'd been in several fights in the mess, and Kahmar had noted that she was hot-tempered. He'd assigned her the human for convenience and because she seemed capable of defending herself, not because he'd expected her to take to nursing. "You have no complaints?"

"None, _HoD_!" Marag glared at him.

He glanced at the human. She followed them with her eyes, lips still moving. Her looks had improved with her health, though she was still too short and too skinny. "Dismissed."

Marag left. Haragga stood beside the biocomputer, giving his head a single shake to show that Goroth should stay as he was rather than stand. "She is recovering?"

"Yes, _HoD."_ Goroth looked away from the report he was finalizing. "The last scan showed an eighty percent improvement in neurocognitive functions. The muscular and skeletal damage have almost disappeared. Her body temperature is also beginning to stabilize."

The human pulled her lips back, showing Haragga her teeth. He wondered what was happening in that bruised _ter'ngan_ brain. "Will she be whole by the time we reach Qo'noS?"

"I cannot say. Her rate of recovery is already beyond anything I have previously seen or studied. According to the data we have on humans, she should not be alive at all."

Humans had always been a frail species, at least in Haragga's experience, which made these developments even more inexplicable. He could not blame the medical officer for having no answers. "Where is the _bekk_?"

_"bekk_ Xol?" Goroth grunted. "She became impatient when the human spilled her _baqghol._ When the _qoH_ went to hit her, the human closed her hand on Xol's and broke it."

"Broke it?"

"Twenty-three bones. I ordered her on light duty for two days."

Haragga lowered his head, brows furrowed. "The human did this with her bare hand."

"Yes." Goroth looked unperturbed.

"And you do not suspect her to be an Augment?" To break a full-grown Klingon woman's hand only by tightening her grip?

The ship's physician met Haragga's glare squarely. "The tests do not lie, _HoD._ She has undergone no genetic manipulation."

"And Xol's hand?"

"—could be anything." Goroth was scowling. "There are Klingons who are stronger than the norm, and Klingons who are weaker."

"Then her recovery rate!"

"I cannot explain it." The physician pulled his shoulders back, as if he was preparing to fight. "I studied Klingon medicine at the Enclave, not human. But it does not take a Starfleet-trained _toDSaH_ to see that the tests show no genetic modification. I will make no diagnosis without further testing!"

Useless to argue, Haragga knew. Goroth had made up his mind, and would not unmake it unless the proof slapped him in the face. "Marag saw it happen?"

"Yes, _HoD._"

At least that explained the unexpected shift in Marag's disposition. Haragga shook his head. "My _ghojmoHwl_ used to say that pain is the teacher that cannot be questioned, the first and last for every warrior."

The doctor opened his mouth to reply and another voice said _"Suuuv."_

It was more growling than speech, a guttural murmur that reminded Haragga of a child imitating the adults around her. The pronunciation was awkward, the tone slightly shrill, a mouthful of unfamiliar angles, but he knew the word, just as he'd known what his nursling sister had been trying to say when she had looked up at him, the indignant pubescent standing over her, and growled _loDn_. _loDn_.

_"Suuuv."_ Those eyes darkened with effort, and a line formed between the brows. _"Suuuvweee."_

She put her hand to her mouth, the fingertips at her lips.

_"SuvwI',"_ someone said. He, Haragga, he was saying it. He had turned toward her, was baring his teeth to show how the sound should be made. _"SuvwI'!"_

The human did not recoil at the loud exclamation, or away from him. She was upright and poised on the biobed, eyes bold and intent.

_"SuvwI'!"_ Haragga made a fist and struck his chest with it. _"be'Hom! SuvwI'!"_

The human's eyes dilated. _"SuvwI',"_ she said, and bared her white, blunt teeth back at him.

She was making the same face that he was making, Haragga realized, imitating him with words and teeth.

She was watching him now, waiting for his reaction.

_"HoD,"_ someone else said—Goroth, behind him, still at his station. "You should see your face!" The older _tlhIngan_ rumbled in his throat, laughing without laughing. "You look like every father before you since Kortar!"

* * *

**Glossary**

_yowaH_ | pants  
_DaS_ | boot  
_toDSaH_ | insult; weakling, indicates a need for rescue  
_ghojmoHwl_ | mentor  
_loDn_ | mispronunciation of _loDnI'_, "brother"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Trek: The Next Generation belong to their respective creators, Joss Whedon and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

The transmission came just as the _H'Grot_ entered into orbit over Qo'noS.

_"Energy traces confirm plasma torpedoes of Romulan origin,"_ said _Sa'_ Martok. _"Plasma exhaust traces indicate a Romulan ship, but in such small amounts that the findings are inconclusive. Of the human artifact, we barely detected the remaining particles. I have alerted the ships patrolling the Neutral Zone, but there are no reports of activity or even of a Romulan presence."_

"Is it possible that the Romulan ship was an outlier?" Haragga had been reflecting on the possibility. "I found it strange that even Romulans would use unmarked and unidentifiable ships but deploy commandos. Perhaps they crossed Federation space."

_"It could be."_ By the general's expression, he had been thinking the same thing. The Federation could posture all they wanted, but the fact remained that a cloaked ship could still evade border security with relative ease. _"However, as of this time we have no leads with which to continue the search. Except the human."_

Here was the meat of it. "She is recovering much more quickly than her injuries would suggest. However, my medical officer advises me that the brain damage has most likely affected her memories."

_"She remembers nothing?"_

"I...have not yet determined this, _Sa'_."

Martok only looked at him. He looked at Haragga for so long that Haragga began trying to work out who on the crew was sending the general covert reports before dismissing such an unworthy surmise. _"_HoD, _it may be that this is of no consequence to the Empire, a separate matter between the Federation and the Romulans. If this is so, then there is nothing else to do but turn the human over into Federation custody."_

"_Sa'_, I object." Haragga set his jaw. "I am _vavneS_."

_ "I have heard you!" _Martok scowled. _"You cannot mean to keep her, Haragga!"_

"I mean to do my duty, and to fulfill the obligations of honor." It was on the tip of Haragga's tongue to tell _Sa'_ Martok of the battle aboard the human vessel, to tell him of the precipice that the Empire might be nearing and all his suspicions. Yet he managed to restrain himself. "General, you have contacts in the Federation, contacts who have connections in the Star Empire. I request that you use them."

_"You overstep yourself, son of Hij'Qa,"_ growled _Sa'_ Martok, tones perilously low.

"I serve the Empire above all else!" Haragga struggled to keep his temper in check. "I myself will contact the Federation ambassador to Qo'noS. If they can produce this human's House, then I will cede my rights and quit my claim."

_"Humans do not have Houses,"_ said Martok, but the threat that had filled his terrible face was beginning to subside. _"They do have family, though it is not as you or I would mean family." _The general now looked almost resigned, if irritated. _"You will speak to Ambassador K'Ehleyr?"_

"I will."

_ "So be it." Sa'_ Martok fixed his excoriating glare on Haragga. _"But you _will_ abide by the results."_

"I will do as I have said I will do," said Haragga, refusing to yield the point.

_"Proceed cautiously, son of Hij'Qa."_ Martok's expression was blackly premonitory. _"You serve well, despite your own connections, and I know you for a man of honor. Eccentricity is one thing; insubordination another. Take my counsel, Haragga. When the time comes, let this matter go."_

The transmission ended.

Almost immediately, there was an alert. _"_HoD_, I have received the specifications for the diagnostics and necessary pathologies. I am prepared to administer the test."_

"I am on my way."

_Sa'_ Martok was an honorable man, a leader and warrior without parallel in the Empire. Should it all end in disgrace, Haragga would not pull the House of Martok down with him.

The infirmary was crowded—Kahmar was there, along with Goroth and the human. "Kahmar, take the bridge and lock down the ship."

Kahmar turned truculent. "Captain, I request—"

_"Get out!"_

By the expression on his face, Haragga could see that the lieutenant was not offended, only frustrated. But he would not disobey a direct order; Kahmar went out of the infirmary, practically scuffing the deck with his feet. He would do his duty, Haragga was confident, even if it meant his death.

Haragga turned to the human, who was sitting on the biobed, her back to the bulkhead.

The girl immediately bared her teeth at him. She looked pleased with herself when he put his hand on her head.

The more he looked at her, the less ugly she became. She'd begun stringing _tlhIngan_ words together, mostly mouthing gibberish but occasionally producing a babyish sentence. By Goroth's estimate, given another day or two, she might be at the level of a two-year-old, and in a few weeks perhaps she'd be closer to her own age. She showed no signs of speaking Federation Standard.

"Captain," said Goroth, "there is something else. I have been accessing our the Enclave's database, and it seems I miscalculated her age. She is in her twenties, not her adolescence."

"Her _twenties_?"

"The human rate of maturity is more gradual than ours. And her size is misleading."

A woman, not a child. Haragga removed his hand from her head.

There were no plasma grenades. No bared _meqleH_. Goroth remained intransigent on his conclusion that she was no Augment, and despite all contrary details, Haragga was beginning to believe it. He _wanted_ to believe it, which was why he'd insisted on the procedure. This final test would provide the proof he needed to dismiss all doubts, to disarm the ship, and to show _Sa'_ Martok if it came to that.

Yet if she was not an Augment, then there was no explanation for her regenerative abilities, or why the Romulans would go so far in trying to capture or destroy her. And if she was surrendered into Federation hands, then they would probably never know.

Something warm touched his hand, clutched at his fingers.

Haragga looked down. The human had put her hand in his, and he could hear her growling softly.

"You should have had children, _HoD_," Goroth said, glancing over from calibrating his detronal scanner. "I think it will be difficult for you when the Federation takes her back."

If this test proved her genetically untampered, then he ought to take her from the ship and into a medical facility in the First City near his own home, until her own came to claim her. _Sa'_ Martok had more or less ordered him to relinquish her at the first opportunity, and restoring her to her kin would fulfill the requirements of honor. There was no point in getting attached.

She was human. She belonged with other humans. She would test negative, he would contact the Federation ambassador as _Sa'_ Martok wanted, and then all would be as it was.

It would be as if he had never seen what he had seen on that derelict Terran vessel, in the small hand on the warrior's knife.

"Perhaps," said Haragga, and did not pull his hand away.

* * *

End of SuvwI', 1st in the SuvwI' series.

Continued in tlhIngan, 2nd in the SuvwI' series.


End file.
